Brighton Beach Holiday
by The Yankee Countess
Summary: Sybil, Anna, Gwen, and Daisy are having a "girls weekend" in Brighton, but while there, a certain Irishman catches Sybil's eye. Too bad he's married...and a womanizer. Or is he? Humor, fluff, and a wee bit of sexy angst, inspired by zip-goes-a-million. Modern AU. NOW WITH A SECOND CHAPTER, inspired by mimijag.
1. Chapter 1

_**HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZIP-GOES-A-MILLION!** This was inspired by her, based on a post she left on tumblr about seeing a "hot dad" playing with his kids while at the beach on her summer holiday. Pure fluff and humor, with a dash of sexy angst ;o) hope you enjoy!_

* * *

 **Brighton Beach Holiday  
** _ **by The Yankee Countess**_

"Now THIS is a holiday…" Sybil happily sighed, reclining even further on the back seat, letting her feet stick out the window and giggling as she felt the breeze tickle her toes.

Gwen, who was driving, couldn't help but laugh as she looked at her friend in the rear-view mirror. "Are you implying that a weekend holiday to Brighton is more fun than a cruise around the Mediterranean?"

"Absolutely," Sybil muttered from the back. "For many reasons, but most importantly, it's a girls weekend away with you lot!"

Daisy, who was sitting next to Gwen in the passenger seat laughed and looked over her shoulder at Sybil. "I think you mean, 'it's time away from your family'."

"That too," Sybil couldn't deny, grinning to herself. She had just completed her exams for her first year medical school, and was now enjoying a much needed celebratory holiday with her friends. Her parents and sisters were on holiday as well, cruising the Mediterranean just as Gwen had said. They were willing to wait and hold off on their cruise until after Sybil finished her exams, but she convinced them to go ahead. Yes, a luxury cruise was much more exotic than staying in a run-down cabin along Brighton's coast, but the mere fact that she wouldn't have to play referee to Mary and Edith's squabbles was well worth it.

"Oh! I think I see Anna!" Gwen pointed out. Sybil sat up and leaned her arm and head out the window, waving at her friend. Anna, the only one among their little group who was married, had come separately and was waving back at them from outside the cabin they would be staying in for the weekend.

"Took you lot long enough!" Anna laughed when the car pulled up. "The sun's practically set."

"It's Sybil's fault," Gwen explained as she got out.

"Hey!"

"It's true," Gwen teased, poking her tongue out at her. "We stopped at least five times on the way down here, Syb insisting that we see 'this' or 'that', based on some over-priced guidebook designed for American tourists that she got while in London."

"It's a 'road trip' isn't it? That's the whole point of a road-trip," Sybil defended, grabbing her suitcases from the boot.

"It's a 'beach holiday', actually, and thanks to your stops, we'll have to postpone our time at the beach for tomorrow."

"I got a few things for the pantry, Daisy, but I know you like to be present when getting groceries," Anna explained as they brought their things inside. Daisy was the cook of their little group.

"Well since Syb cost us some daylight hours," Gwen teased, ducking when Sybil tried to chuck a pillow at her. "I think it's only fair that we go out and hit the town!"

Daisy's face lit up at the suggestion. "Oh yes, let's do!"

"No clubs," Anna added, to which Gwen and Daisy started to pout.

"I agree with Anna," Sybil came to her friend's defense. "The whole point of this holiday is to spend time _together_ , not pick up random men."

"We don't have to 'pick them up'," Gwen mumbled. "Dancing doesn't hurt anyone."

"Let's save the dancing for another night," Anna suggested. "We'll get something to eat, find a late-night grocers, get whatever supplies we still need, and then—"

"Alright, alright," Gwen sighed. She started to perk up again as she glanced out their cabin window towards some bright lights in the distance. "Daisy, do you remember that place we saw on our way here? That pub on the beach?"

"Oh, I do! It looked kind of run down though, why?"

"Well, maybe during daylight it's not much to look at, but at night…?" She pointed out the window and the rest of the women saw the lights and could even (faintly) hear laughter and music coming from its direction.

"Oh! Let's go there!" Daisy gasped, turning to both Anna and Sybil with hopeful eyes.

"Well, it is close, I'll give it that," Anna conceded.

"And it's not a club," Gwen added with a giggle. "Syb?"

Sybil, much to the surprise of her friends, seemed to be the most…reluctant wasn't the right word, but…uncertain. Her brow was furrowed, and she looked to be deep in thought.

"Syb?"

Sybil shook her head, waking from whatever trance she had been in. "Sorry, I just…I don't know, I just have this feeling…" she murmured, her gaze returning to the lights in the distance.

Gwen, Daisy, and Anna all looked at one another. "A 'bad' feeling?" one of them asked.

Sybil shook her head, feeling silly for her behavior. "No, just…I don't know what I'm talking about, never mind. Yes, let's go!" she offered, trying to sound enthusiastic for her friends, despite the odd look they were giving her.

Twenty-minutes later, they were entering the pub, ironically called "Pub-on-the-Beach", which clearly was popular with both locals and holiday travelers alike, but not to the point of feeling overcrowded. Due to the lovely evening weather, one entire wall of the pub (the side that was facing the beach) was "open", and patrons were going back and forth from their tables to sip their drinks, while venturing to the make-shift sandy dance floor that lay just beyond. A live band provided the music, and the general atmosphere was positive. Honestly, Sybil didn't know why she had been feeling so strange about the idea of coming there.

"Alright, I know this is a 'girls weekend' and all that, but…" Gwen pointed at a dark-haired, bearded fellow playing bass guitar in the band. "I'm feeling the sudden urge to become a 'groupie'."

"I rather like the tall ginger fellow at the bar," Daisy conceded, blushing as she caught the barman's eye momentarily.

"I rather like my husband, back in Yorkshire," Anna happily added, poking her tongue out at her friends, before turning to Sybil. "And you, Sybil? Is there a bloke here that you fancy?" Actually…

It was the voice that first caught her attention, an Irish accent, followed by a rich laugh. He was sitting at the bar, with several women around him, all of them laughing with him, and some seeming to "affectionately" touch his arms or shoulders, one even placing her hand at the back of his neck to caress.

"Well, well, well…" Gwen murmured, causing Sybil to blush as she realized she had been "found out". "Not bad, Syb, I'll concede that," she said with a wink.

"And clearly she's not alone in thinking so," Anna added, indicating to the man's all-female entourage.

Sybil rolled her eyes and shook her head. She had no time for "players"…not that she was looking for a man, but even if she were, she had no time for men like that. Still…she didn't know why, but her eyes kept drifting back to the laughing Irishman, who clearly was having a grand time, surrounded by his admirers, when suddenly, his eyes found hers and his smile faded momentarily.

Sybil's eyes widened and she turned her head so quickly, she thought she had given herself whiplash.

"What? What is it?" Daisy asked, noticing Sybil's sudden change in demeanor.

"Nothing," Sybil muttered, keeping her head turned. Daisy tried to look to see what had upset her friend, but Sybil hissed at her to keep her eyes down. A minute passed...followed by another…and slowly, carefully, Sybil turned her head just slightly to see if he was still there, still looking at her…

He wasn't. In fact, he was gone, entourage and all. And despite what she believed about the bloke, she couldn't deny, she felt a little disappointed.

 _Oh wake up, Crawley. So what if he's nice to look at and has a sexy accent? You don't know anything about him! He could be a right wanker, and probably is!_ She held onto this thought throughout the rest of the night, reminding herself whenever the memory of his startling blue eyes resurfaced, that she wouldn't see him again for the rest of the weekend anyway…

* * *

Sybil awoke to the sounds of seagulls crying overhead. The sun was streaming through her window, beckoning her to awake. It was a little chilly, so she put on some sweats and stepped outside, stretching her legs and rolling her shoulders, getting the blood flowing before embarking on a morning run. Daisy had just risen and was making coffee when Sybil left the cabin. She promised that when Sybil returned, breakfast would be ready—a classic English fry-up, something Sybil's mother would NEVER allow, back at Downton.

The sea breeze felt heavenly, and Sybil smiled as she tilted her head towards it, loving the warmth of the sun on her skin and sighing contentedly as she jogged. There were a few other runners out and about that morning, some actually running barefoot through the surf, others, like her, keeping to the path. She smiled and nodded at the various runners she passed, some of which returned the greeting. She reached a marker and decided to begin her jog back, not wanting to miss out on Daisy's breakfast, when she noticed a runner in front of her, a good twenty yards away.

He wasn't very tall, certainly not like that ginger fellow Daisy had fancied at the pub, but he was well-built from what Sybil could tell—broad shoulders and a strong, muscular back, enhanced thanks in part to the thin, white running shirt he was wearing, which was covered in sweat and clung to his body. Sybil knew she was staring (gaping even) but couldn't seem to tear her eyes away.

He began to slow down, and Sybil held herself back so as not to run into him. _But would that be so bad?_ She shushed that flirty voice inside her head, which kept trying to persuade her to go up and talk to him. _Where's the harm in that? Make some passing comment about the weather, or about how nice of a morning it is to go for a run! You're just being friendly, that's all…_

It was tempting…very tempting. And just as Gwen had said there was no harm in going out and dancing while on holiday, so too was there no harm in simply striking up a conversation…with a handsome stranger whose body she had been lusting after—oh God, no, no, she couldn't do it, she'd make an absolute fool of herself…

The man had stopped altogether and turned to face a rail along the path, gripping it as he stretched his legs out. And that was when Sybil realized who the runner was…

 _Oh my God, it's HIM!_ The "Casanova" from last night. Of all the people whose bodies she had to be lusting over while running…

He lifted his head then and Sybil gasped when he turned and caught her eyes once again. He looked every bit as surprised as herself, but a smile slowly began to spread across his handsome face (making him even more good looking if that were possible), and he lifted a hand in a friendly gesture and called out, "good morning!" It was two simple words, and yet with that accent, she felt her toes curl.

She could move passed him, pretending that she hadn't heard him, but that would be childish. She could purposefully ignore him, but that would be rude. Or…she could be an adult, put on a little smile, return the greeting, and then be on her way. "Good morning," she mumbled, forcing a smile while her face burned hotly. She passed him quickly, increasing her pace so as not to be lulled back into any further conversation. At least that way she couldn't deny that she hadn't heard him. Was he looking at her? Watching her as she ran—no, _jogged_ away? She didn't know whether to be disgusted or thrilled at the thought of his eyes taking in her body the way her eyes had been taking in his, and that confusion bothered her immensely.

She sped her pace and didn't slow down until she reached the cabin, bursting inside and gasping as she came to a sudden stop. Anna, Gwen, and Daisy all looked up from the table where they were sitting, mouths full and concern in their eyes as they took in the sight of her.

"Sybil, are you alright?" Anna asked, quickly swallowing her breakfast and rising from her chair. "You look like you've seen a ghost!"

"N-n-no," Sybil panted. "I'm f-fine, really."

"You're not fine," Gwen scolded with a frown. "I'm no runner, but even I know you need to cool down…Daisy, can you get us some water?"

"I'm fine, truly!" Sybil insisted, though she accepted the water Daisy brought her, gulping it down and groaning at the cramp she could feel developing in her side.

"Yeah, right," Gwen rolled her eyes. "What happened?"

She debated about telling them the truth, but it was clear they weren't going to believe another lie, so with a groan, she flopped down onto a chair and told them that she had run into the Irishman from the pub the night before (though she left out the part about staring at his back and arse while running behind him).

"Did he say anything to you?" Anna asked, concern in her voice.

Sybil made a face, because the more she thought about it, the sillier her behavior seemed. "Good morning", she mumbled.

Her friends glanced back and forth between each other, then back at her, and then Gwen burst out laughing, surprising them all. "Oh wow…" she giggled, her eyes meeting Sybil's. "You got it bad."

"Oh, I do not!" Sybil muttered, rising from her chair and heading towards her room.

"Then how do you explain running like a madwoman all the way back here, after seeing him and him simply smiling and saying 'good morning'?"

Sybil didn't answer, she simply shut the door and stripped off her sweats, before hopping into the shower and letting the water cascade down her body, washing away the sweat and hopefully, her embarrassment.

* * *

No one said anything further about "the incident", after Sybil emerged from her shower (though she did catch Gwen smirking every once in a while). After they had all finished breakfast, they went for a little walk into Brighton, exploring some of the shops, taking pictures, having a bite to eat at a café, before heading back to the cabin to change into their swimsuits and hit the beach.

Daisy brought a book, while Anna was content to simply lay back and get some rest while absorbing the sun. Down the beach there was a volleyball net and Gwen decided to go and "make friends" with the group there. As for Sybil, like Daisy, she had also brought a book, but she was much more content to simply sit back and watch the sun reflecting off the rolling surf.

There were a few people in the water, mostly children. She smiled as she watched them splash one another, a few even trying to climb onto the shoulders of older kids to "do battle" with the others. Just beyond the children were more "serious" swimmers, men and women who were doing laps like they would in a pool. One such swimmer was cutting through the water with strong, broad strokes, and…even though he was some distance away…Sybil thought he seemed a little familiar…

Oh God… _AGAIN!?_ She snapped her book up to hide her face, groaning at her luck. Why was this happening to her? There were plenty of beaches around Brighton, why did he have to be swimming near hers?

She glanced at her friends, but they were completely oblivious to anything going on. She bit her lip, and decided to sneak a peek just over her book…

Oh God.

He was STANDING. Standing in the shallow water, just below his waist, his broad, muscular chest on full display, water dripping off his skin, the waves rippling around his speedos, leaving very little to the imagination (though "little" might not be the right word to use).

He was wiping the salty brine from his face, and seemed to be scanning the beach, as if looking for someone, and Sybil drew her book even closer, hoping he wouldn't be able to notice her, but at the same time…kind of hoping he might as well…? Oh Lord, what was wrong with her? Why was she—

"GOTCHA!"

She looked up at the sound of the Irishman's voice, and gasped as she watched him playfully attack several children in the water. They laughed and squealed, and he made a big "chopping motion" with his arms, while humming the tune from the movie _Jaws_.

Did he…did he know them? The children? He must, because she couldn't imagine a parent being fine with some stranger playing "shark" with their kids. And they, the children, certainly seemed to know him. There was a familiarity between them, and they jumped on him, trying to tackle him back down into the water, and he laughed and allowed them and…despite herself, Sybil found herself grinning at the sight.

And of course, that was when he turned his head towards her and caught her gaze.

She hadn't realized that she had lowered her book far enough for him to make out her face. And even though she wore sunglasses, there was no mistake that she had been caught watching him. As for him, he was so surprised at seeing her that he was completely taken unawares by the children around him, who all seemed to leap on top of him then, knocking him face first into the water with a huge splash.

Sybil sat up, concern filling her and even momentarily wondering if she needed to call for help, or rush into the ocean herself and come to his rescue, but he regained his composure and rose from the waves, growling like a make-believe sea monster and "throwing off" his attackers, all of whom were giggling and crying "again! AGAIN!"

"Later," he promised, gasping and looking tired. He turned towards her again and Sybil's face began to darken as he offered a handsome, crooked smile. Oh God, was he…was he going to come over and…

"TOM!"

Both she and he turned their heads to a leggy blonde woman who was waving her hand at him. "Bring the kids in, will you? It's time for supper!"

The woman, like him, also had an Irish accent. Which made sense, when you thought about it. Irishman…who knows lots of children…Irishwoman calling on him to "bring in the kids"…

 _He's married. OF COURSE he's married._ Why was that a surprise? And…why was she feeling disappointed by this revelation?

But what about last night? And all those women? She shook her head, telling herself not to dwell on the subject, that it honestly didn't deserve her attention, that she had given it far too much of her attention in the first place!

She held the book to her nose and pretended to read, forcing herself not to lower it until she was absolutely sure he and his kids would be gone.

"Syb?"

She looked up to see Gwen standing over her, panting and sweaty from her beach volleyball game.

"You alright?"

She forced a smile and nodded. "I am, yes…" She glanced then at the ocean and saw, just as she had been hoping, that the Irishman was gone. "I am…" she repeated once more, though in truth, she felt quite the opposite.

* * *

Saturday night was uneventful. They stayed in, Daisy cooking a fabulous meal, sharing wine and various stories about their lives. Sybil smiled and laughed, but deep inside, she was troubled. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get the Irishman out of her head. Which was downright maddening because she didn't even know him! How could she be upset with someone she didn't know? What right did she have? So what if he was married and had an entire brood of children. So what if he also happened to be the world's biggest womanizer? _Asshole_ , Sybil thought to herself, though that didn't do much to make her feel better. Still, she kept these thoughts to herself, choosing not to tell her friends about seeing the Irishman again that afternoon. Hopefully she'd be lucky and not have to see him for the rest of the holiday! Which, much to her frustration, did little to help her feel better.

On Sunday morning, she chose not to go for a run. Anna, Gwen, and Daisy wanted to go to the arcades in town, which sounded like fun, but Sybil could easily imagine running into her Irishman ( _her_ , Irishman? Really?), taking his children to those very same arcades, so she fibbed and told them she had a headache, but to go ahead without her.

The cabin was quiet, a bit too quiet for Sybil's liking (silence meant having to face one's inner thoughts, and right now, a handsome, married, and potentially womanizing Irishman occupied them), so she put on her swimsuit and went back outside, hoping the feel of the sun and the breeze from the sea would help clear her mind…

She paused, not ten steps outside the cabin when she saw a man walking with a little toddler. His shape was so familiar to her now, she'd recognize it in her sleep. What was he doing here!? Why wasn't in town? Why wasn't he at the arcades with all his other kids? Why…

Her thoughts trailed away as she watched him play with the little girl. She was giggling in that nonsensical way babies do, clinging to his thumbs as he helped her walk in the sand, taking delight as she felt it between her toes, before plopping down onto the sand and gathering it close to her body.

"Oh, come on darlin', if you want to build castles, we should go back to our…" his voice faded as he seemed to sense someone watching them. And he wasn't wrong. "Hi…" he murmured, looking directly back at her. He smiled at her like had those other times, though this time Sybil could see something else: a nervous bashfulness that she had never noticed before. Perhaps that was because he was so much closer to her now than all those other times.

"Sorry," he apologized, picking up the toddler. "We didn't…I mean, I didn't know this was..." he was babbling, falling over his words in a rather adorable manner that had Sybil smiling back at him. "Anyway," he shook his head. "I'm sorry for…for disturbing you, and—"

"Da," the toddler blurted out, her tiny hand closing over Tom's nose then.

Sybil couldn't help but smile at the little girl, though the word she spoke did cause Sybil's heart to sink, ever so slightly. _But you already knew he was married and had all those kids! And don't forget the womanizing!_

"I'm Tom, by the way," he introduced himself then, holding his hand out towards her.

Despite the battling thoughts inside her head, Sybil forced a smile and returned his handshake. "Sybil," she answered.

He murmured her name to himself, and again, Sybil felt her toes curl at the sound of his accent.

"And this is Saoirse," he introduced Sybil to the little girl, who grinned and squealed and even held a little hand out towards her.

 _Oh, that's not fair,_ Sybil thought to herself, unable to keep from smiling and reaching out to offer her finger to the child, who enthusiastically gripped it.

"Hello, Saoirse," Sybil murmured to the little girl, before turning her eyes back to Tom. He was looking at her in a way that caused her stomach to somersault. "Um…where are the others?"

Tom blinked for a moment. "Others?"

Sybil blushed but nodded. "The other children?"

"Oh!" Tom laughed and ran his hand through his hair somewhat sheepishly. "At the arcade, with their mothers."

 _Mothers?_ Sybil's brow furrowed. Mothers as in…more than one?

"Saoirse is a bit too young for that," Tom went on, jostling the little girl in his arms. "So she and I are having some 'uncle-niece bonding time' while her siblings and cousins go to the arcade."

 _UNCLE?_ Sybil's eyes were practically bulging. "She's…she's _not_ your daughter?"

Tom's smile faded then and his brow furrowed at her question. "No, she's my sister's daughter," he explained. "Oh! Oh, you must…" he blushed then. "I know, she called me 'Da', but that's what she calls all adult men," he explained, again looking bashful, sheepish, and far too adorable. "My brother-in-law thinks it's hysterical for some reason," he groaned.

Sybil blinked. "So…so none of those children are…?"

"Mine?" Tom finished and shook his head. "No, this is our annual 'Branson Sibling Holiday'—only difference is we're having it in Brighton this year, as opposed to Galway. Three of us live in London now, so it just made sense to have the holiday here, in England."

"Branson Sibling Holiday…?" Sybil repeated as she took in the information.

"Aye," he answered, blushing but smiling too. "We've been doing it for almost ten years now. Even after my sisters got married and had kids, they wanted to keep doing it."

"Sisters?" Sybil repeated.

Tom nodded. "Aye, I'm the lone brother," he chuckled. "Dead in the middle, as well—two ahead of me, two behind me"

And now it was all starting to make sense. That night at the pub, all the women around him. His sisters! And all those children she saw splashing with him; his nieces and nephews, including this little one.

A cynical voice told her that he could very well be lying, but…why? Why would he lie about such a thing? And then she reminded herself that she didn't know anything about him…which also meant, she shouldn't jump to the wrong conclusion and be harsh to judge so quickly.

"I'm here with some friends," Sybil went on to explain, feeling the need to do so. "Our own little 'girls weekend away'."

"Ah," Tom said with a nod.

Sybil bit her lip, her guilt suddenly overwhelming her. "I'm sorry," she started to say in a rush. "I…I thought…" She groaned. _There was no right way to say this. Sorry, I thought you were a womanizing asshole who was also married and had a zillion children, while hoping to make me your next conquest._

"Sybil?"

She looked up at him and felt her cheeks heat and her heart flutter. "Saoirse would very much like to build a sandcastle…would you care to join us?"

His smile was kind, as well as sincere and understanding. Perhaps he was aware of the conclusions she had drawn, but if he was upset, he didn't look it. "I'd like that," Sybil murmured, smiling back at him. "But…I think Saoirse has her heart set on this particular beach, am I right?" she asked the child, who giggled and clapped her hands excitedly.

Tom laughed and put the child back down on her feet. She held fast to one of his fingers as she toddled towards a sand bar, and without realizing what she was doing until she had done it, Sybil offered her own finger for Saoirse to hold onto to (which she happily did).

Tom and Sybil looked up at one another, and there seemed to be a strange, wonderful wave of… _something_ …pass between them. Whatever it was, it caused Sybil's heart to jump and a smile to spread across her face, before she herself bashfully looked away.

That was how his family and her friends found them, when they all returned from the arcades. A giant mound of sand, with a little mud moat going around it, and Saoirse giggling as she stuck seashells on the mound for decoration. Gwen, Anna, and Daisy all elbowed each other, before giving Sybil a knowing smile and…was it her imagination? Or did Tom's sisters do the same with him?

His sisters invited the girls to have dinner with them, and Daisy insisted on helping. Gwen and Anna bonded with Tom's other sisters, while the children played outside, inspired after watching their uncle and his new friend build a castle, and each wanting to "out build" the other. This left Tom and Sybil a chance to continue talking and getting to know one another, sharing stories about their own childhoods, their work, their hopes for the future…

"I know they only just met," whispered one of Tom's sisters to Anna and Gwen. "But is it wrong of me to hope that when we have these future gatherings, she'll be among our lot?"

Anna and Gwen giggled and exchanged a smile before glancing at Sybil and then at Tom. "No, I don't think that's wrong at all," they answered. And a year later, they were proven right.

 _ **THE END**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**HAPPY** (somewhat belated) **BIRTHDAY MIMIJAG!** Though you saw the last of this story? THINK AGAIN! _

_So before I wrote Brighton Beach Holiday, I had asked dear Mimi for some advice on what to write. *THIS* chapter was one of the "rejected ideas", but Mimi revealed that she loved the idea so much I decided to "file it away" for another day...and that day has come! Anyway, I hope you like it and who knows!? Maybe there's more to come from this universe! :o) Thank you for reading! Oh, and this particular chapter is **rated T** ;oP  
_

* * *

 _Three Years Later…_

"Now THIS is a holiday…" Tom announced, grinning as he felt the sea breeze strike his face. "Don't you agree, love?"

Tom turned his head towards his wife, but his smile vanished at the wincing expression he saw on her face, as if she were in some kind of pain.

Panic suddenly seized him. "Sybil?" Oh God, it was happening—but it was too soon, surely!? She wasn't due—

"Oh God, I really need a toilet!" Sybil groaned.

Tom blinked…and then started to cough in an effort to mask the relieved laugh that had escaped his throat at her revelation.

Sybil, naturally, saw right through it. "It's not funny," she muttered. _"You_ try being seven months pregnant—"

"Here we are!"

Sybil's retort died on her lips at the sight of the approaching beach cabin. Tom had barely put the car in park before she was scrambling out, desperate to get inside to use the very thing she had been groaning about not a few seconds earlier.

While Sybil was finding relief, Tom was bringing their suitcases into the cabin, chuckling softly to himself as he picked a room for them. As was tradition, the rest of the Bransons would be joining them for the long holiday weekend, but he and Sybil both had some spare vacation days with their respective work places, and managed to combine the annual family holiday with a personal one as well. His sisters and their families wouldn't be descending on Brighton until the day after next, which meant for at least tonight and the following day, he and Sybil had the cabin all to themselves.

She finally emerged from the loo and Tom couldn't help but smile, her expression bashful, but her skin glowing from the beauty of impending motherhood. "This room alright?" he asked as she entered.

Sybil nodded her head and then gently sat down on the edge of the bed. Tom came around and sat beside her, his hands going to her shoulders and then moving down her spine to her lower back to help work out the knots he knew were there from sitting in the car. "Better?" he whispered into her ear, smiling as she answered by way of what could be called a "satisfied purr". "And how's the wee one?" he asked, smiling down at her belly.

"She's equally excited to be here," Sybil sighed, her hand running over her bump in a soothing gesture. "She can't stop jumping."

Tom chuckled and brought one of his hands around to massage Sybil's belly and his "jumping" daughter beneath. "Hey, little one, let's give your Mam a rest for the night, aye?"

Sybil sighed and then gave a shake of her head. "I confess, it's both amazing and a bit annoying…"

Tom looked up at her. "What is?"

"Your 'superpower'!" Sybil teased. "She'll be bouncing around in there for what feels like hours, but you just give a whisper and a little pat of her hand, and she stops!" She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to look stern but failing as she couldn't help but smile. "She's not even born yet, but you got her wrapped around your little finger."

"Trust me, love, when she's born, it will be the other way around," he chuckled, then lowered his head and planted his lips against her belly. "Now, are you hungry?" he asked, looking up at Sybil, his resting on her stomach.

Sybil reached down and ran her fingers through Tom's hair, smiling as he gave an appreciative sigh at the gesture. "Actually…maybe we can eat something later?"

Tom's eyes, which had fluttered closed as she massaged his scalp, quickly shot open at her words. A cheeky grin spread across his face as he looked up at her. "Later? Why Mrs. Branson, whatever do you mean?"

"Don't play the innocent, darling, you never could pull it off," she groaned, but then gave a little yelp as she felt Tom grab her legs and hoist them up onto the bed, the action causing her to fall backwards against the mattress, her hair fanning out across the pillow.

"Well, if milady doesn't want 'innocent'…" he chuckled, while making quick work of helping her out of her clothes.

Sybil laughed and grinned and then began to sigh and moan. She loved Tom, loved him more than she thought she ever could love another person. And she loved how he always was able to make her feel beautiful and precious, especially when she felt the exact opposite (which was becoming a bit more common, now as she was reaching the final months of her pregnancy). In truth, she had been reluctant about this year's Branson get-together; one didn't see too many pregnant women on the beach, or at least not seven, nearly eight-month pregnant women. She had to buy a special swimsuit (although she had been tempted not to get one at all, but Tom convinced her in the end), and even though she had been desperate to get inside their cabin when they first pulled up to it, Sybil hadn't missed that the cabin next door happened to be occupied by what looked like a bunch of pretty, nubile, 20-something uni students. Even when she had been that age, she hadn't been as waif-like as those girls. But Tom…bless him…that was another gift he possessed. Even at her worst with her insecurities, he always found a way to make her feel like the only woman in the world.

"I love you so much, Sybil," he panted into her ear as they came down together.

Sybil curled her arms around him and held him tightly to her. "I love you too," she whispered back, her heart overflowing. _Not a bad way to begin one's holiday,_ she thought to herself. And as the room was illuminated by the colors of the setting sun, and the sound of the waves could be heard in the distance, she found herself thinking that perhaps this trip to the seaside would be perfect after all.

* * *

The following day…Sybil took it all back.

The perfection of the previous evening was shattered when a knock came to their cabin door. Tom was in the shower, having just gotten back from a morning run, while Sybil was in the kitchen making them breakfast. She went to answer the door, and upon opening it, was met by three of the young, pretty uni students she had spotted yesterday in the cabin next door.

"Hi!—oh," the bright smile on the girl's face fell when she met Sybil's face. Clearly she had been hoping to meet someone else. And this suspicion was only confirmed, when the girl glanced over Sybil's shoulder, and mumbled, "Um…sorry to bother you, but…um…is there…?"

"Love, did I hear someone at the door?"

Sybil inwardly groaned as her husband chose that moment to emerge, the muscular upper half of his body still glistening from the shower, while the lower half of him was only wearing a towel. He froze as he realized that their unexpected visitors were standing just a few feet away, and unashamedly GAPING at him. Sybil took the matter into her own hands, folded her arms across her chest, and with the help of her large belly, moved in such a way as to block the girls' view of her husband.

"Can I help you?" she asked in an annoyed tone.

The girls were trying to look past her, blatantly trying to catch a second glimpse of her husband! The cheek of it all!

"Ahem!" she cleared her throat rather loudly and gave them a very pointed look.

"Oh! Um, yeah, actually…" one of the girls looked back at her companions and they nodded their heads in encouragement. "Actually, we…we need some help, next door at our place."

 _I just bet you do,_ Sybil thought sourly. "What kind of help?"

"Well, there's something wrong with our shower," she explained. "Something wrong with the pipes, we think. Anyway, we just thought we'd ask—"

"My _husband_ isn't a plumber," Sybil interrupted, over-emphasizing the word "husband" on purpose.

The girls looked a little uncertain on what to say next. "Well, we were just hoping that maybe he could—"

"What seems to be the matter?" Tom asked, coming up behind Sybil, his hair still damp but wearing clothes. Sybil closed her eyes and once again groaned. Why did he have to be so darn helpful?

All three girls' faces lit up and those bright smiles quickly returned. "Oh, our shower isn't working—we don't know why, and we don't know what to do, so we thought we would ask around, see if anybody could help us."

Somehow, Tom must have been completely oblivious to the girls' charming "come-hither" smiles, because he simply nodded his head and murmured, "right, well, I'll have a look, but I can't make any promises that I can fix the issue."

"As I told them," Sybil piped up, turning her eyes back to the girls. "My husband _isn't_ a plumber."

The girls simply ignored her.

"Do you have a tool kit?" Tom asked the girls, stepping around Sybil.

Surprisingly (or at least surprisingly to Sybil) they did, saying that they found it in a supply closet in their cabin. "Right, I'll be just a few minutes," Tom told her, kissing her cheek before turning and following the trio of happy, exuberant, young ladies who were gushing their thanks and praise to him with every step.

Sybil closed the door and groaned. The baby gave a rather indignant kick, which matched Sybil's mood perfectly.

Ugh, she knew she was being irrational. She despised jealousy in any form and in any person, especially herself. She also despised "possessiveness", but here she was, fuming with both emotions because a bunch of uni girls had knocked on her door and asked for some help. And while yes, Tom wasn't a plumber, he was the local handyman, fixing whatever needed fixing in their own home, as well as the homes of their neighbors, friends, and extended family. Not that these girls knew that, but…

Sybil frowned.

Wait, why exactly did they choose Tom? It wasn't like they had seen him doing anything to indicate that he was "handy", unless they were simply going by gender stereotypes. He was strong...had they seen him last night, when they arrived at the cabin? Or perhaps this morning, when he had gone for his run?

Heat flooded her face as she remembered a morning not so long ago, when she had been running behind him and ogling his fit body. And no matter how hard she tried to "reason" with herself about those girls, there couldn't have been any mistake that they were indeed "ogling" him when he had emerged from the shower.

 _And don't forget how "disappointed" they seemed when YOU answered the door…_

Despite what she had told herself, that possessive feeling quickly returned.

 _Maybe I should go and check on him?_

She was opening the door, prepared to go and do just that—but stopped herself before stepping outside.

 _Sybil…you're being ridiculous! You're turning into all those terrible stereotypes you hate that people, men in particularly, say about women! And what would Tom think? That you don't trust him?_ She trusted him whole-heartedly, it was _those girls…_

No, no, she couldn't do it. By going and "checking" on him, she would be giving in the jealousy and she would hate herself.

The baby gave another kick and Sybil sighed, placed a calming hand on her belly, and tried to soothe them both. "I'm going to blame it on the hormones," she muttered. That had to be the answer; she wasn't like this before she was pregnant…was she?

She forced herself away from the door and back into the kitchen to finish making breakfast, though no matter how hard she told herself, she couldn't stop checking the clock. For a project that should only be "a few minutes", time was ticking away.

By the time the twenty-minute mark had struck, Sybil couldn't stop herself from going to the door and opening it once again, thinking she had every right and excuse to go and knock on their door—

Which just opened.

Sybil watched as Tom exited the girls' cabin, smiling and waving back to them as they all cried in unison, "THANK YOU, TOM!" before bursting into giggles.

And just before the door closed, it wasn't missed by Sybil that several of those girls (for there were far more than the three who had shown up at her doorstep) were wearing nothing but towels themselves!

Tom smiled up at her, oblivious, again, it seemed, to the smoke that must have surely been coming out of her ears.

"All fixed?" she forced herself to say, while at the same time, forcing what she hoped was a pleasant-looking smile on her face.

"Aye, it wasn't as bad as they thought," he explained, going into details about the problem with the pipes, but Sybil couldn't get past the fact that there had been a bevy of naked women wearing nothing but towels, surrounding her husband while he "dealt" with their problem.

 _Good God, it's the makings of a porno!_

"Sybil?" Tom brought her out of her thoughts. "Love, are you alright?" he asked, his voice and face looking back at her with concern. His eyes darted down to her belly and then back to her face and despite the jealousy that had been raging through her just a few seconds before, her heart grew tender with love and she nodded her head to put him at ease.

"I'm fine, just…I was concerned," she admitted, though she chose not to say anything further. "Breakfast?"

Tom nodded his head, though he was watching her with interest. "You were concerned?" he asked as he sat down at the table.

"Oh, just…well, you thought it would only take a few minutes and you were gone for…well, it was just longer than you had anticipated, so…so I was just thinking maybe the problem was bigger than you thought, and that was why I was concerned—"

"Are you jealous?"

Sybil's head snapped up at the question. "What!?" she sputtered, blushing furiously and cursing herself because she knew she was giving everything away; he could read her like a book. Still, she had to _try_ to save face, which meant deny, deny, deny. "No, don't be ridiculous," she muttered, turning her back on him to pour him a mug of coffee.

"Well, good, because that _would be_ ridiculous," Tom answered, rising from his chair and coming up behind her, surprising her when he wrapped his arms around her and began nuzzling her neck. "I'm the luckiest man in the world, because I'm married to the most brilliant, most stunning, and _sexiest_ woman on earth—"

"Tom…" Sybil tried to sound stern, though she couldn't help but melt against him a little, both at the feel of his kisses as well as the words which he spoke. "Darling, I'm going to spill your coffee everywhere…" she warned, though only half-heartedly.

Tom smiled against her neck and with his hands on her shoulders, turned her to face him. "I mean it, though…" he told her, his gaze loving but also seriousness. "I love _you_ , Sybil Branson, and _nobody_ can even begin to compare—"

"Alright, you've made your point," Sybil groaned, heat rising to her cheeks this time out of embarrassment for the jealous thoughts that had been rampaging through her brain. "Now…sit down before this gets any colder," she muttered, though at the same time she did lift her face up and smiled at him, her hand going to caress his cheek and leaning up on her tip toes to brush her lips against his.

They had their breakfast then, and the conversation turned a great many topics, none of which had anything to do with their next-door neighbors. Sybil chastised herself one last time for her thoughts and behavior, and vowed to be much better. Heaven knows they would bump into and see those girls again, before the weekend was over, but she would be much more…civil…in both thought and deed.

Or at the very least, she would try to be.

* * *

They had gone for a walk, explored the arcades, had lunch in a charming seaside café where they had had their first "official" date (when it was just the two of them), after their first meeting in Brighton three years ago, and were now back at the beach. It was late afternoon, and twilight would quickly be approaching. "Come on, I want to see you in that swimsuit," Tom encouraged, nuzzling her ear and earning a squeal from her.

"Oh God, I'll look like a beached whale," she groaned, but no sooner had the complaint left her lips, her husband was kissing her. "No fair!" she gasped. "You're using your powers of persuasion against me!"

"Damn right I am," he chuckled. "Come on; let's take a dip together, please?"

She groaned but nodded her head. Her maternity swimsuit was more of a "tank top", with matching bikini bottoms. And even though she had bought the largest size they had available, it still felt snug as she pulled it down her body. She frowned as she realized it didn't quite cover _all_ of her belly, nor did it feel as though it was going to cover all of her breasts; if she bent over, she was certain they would pop out. Not that Tom would complain, but this wasn't a private beach.

"Love? You ready?" Tom asked from the other side of the bathroom door.

Sybil blushed. "You go ahead, I'll be there in a minute," she assured him. She needed to work up the courage to leave the loo and face the world in all her pregnant glory. _Stop it, you're being silly, you were never this vain or self-conscious before—get over yourself!_

Sybil closed her eyes, gave herself a few last encouraging words, and finally exited the loo, forcing a smile as she took the determined steps towards the cabin's patio door that opened out to the beach behind it…

And froze at the door, as she was greeted by the sight of bikini-clad uni girls…all nine of them…running around, their breasts seeming to bounce with every movement, some of them kicking a football on the sand, while others giggled and ran through the surf, splashing one another with their feet…and calling out to Tom to join them.

Sybil's eyes flew to her husband, who was pleasantly smiling and waving back at them, though not rushing forward to accept their invitation.

He turned then and his eyes widened at the sight of Sybil, and her self-esteem took a nose-dive as she imagined her husband looking at her—the beached whale—and then at the bikini-clad mermaids that frolicked just a few yards away—

"You look GORGEOUS, love!" Tom gasped, coming up to her and wrapping his arms around her non-existent waist. "And God, you look _sexy_ ," he growled, his head lowered near her near. "I don't know, I'm having second thoughts about going for a dip—rather like to take you to bed, instead."

Sybil looked up at him, and then back at the squealing girls, and then back up at him…and burst into tears.

Tom's eyes widened with shock and concern. "Sybil? Love, what—"

"It's true!" she wailed, burying her face against his shoulder. "I can't seem to stop myself—I AM jealous," she groaned between sobs.

Tom's arms tightened around her, and she felt one hand run up and down her spine, while another cradled the back of her head. "Oh love," she heard her murmur, and he kissed the top of her head. He didn't offer up words of censure, or tell her that she was being silly—he recognized, at the very least, that these feelings she was having were serious. But he didn't try to inflate her ego further, either, and honestly, he didn't need to. Because she knew he meant it, she knew he was telling her the truth when he told her that he thought she was beautiful and sexy and that he had no eyes for any other woman but herself. She believed him. Now she just needed to believe in herself.

"Oh, is everything alright?"

Sybil lifted her head at the sight of the one of the uni girls. She looked genuinely concerned, as did her friends who were hovering nearby.

Sybil wiped her eyes and cheeks, swallowed, and then looked directly at the girl before extending her hand towards her. "I'm Sybil," she introduced.

The girl looked down at Sybil's hand, then back at her, and a sweet, genuine smile spread across her face, before she took Sybil's hand in hers and began to shake it. "I'm Katrina—it's so nice to meet you!"

Soon all of the uni girls were surrounding them, each introducing themselves and each seeming to be genuinely nice and sincere in their warm greeting. The conversation then turned towards the baby, the girls asking Sybil how far along she was, the due date, and all sorts of questions, which Sybil was surprised to find that she rather enjoyed answering. And then the conversation turned towards how Tom and Sybil had met, and several wistful sighs could be heard as the Bransons retold their story to their new friends.

Sybil felt herself become more and more at ease with the girls, and what slivers of jealousy that still clouded her mind began to finally drift away. She smiled and giggled and even joined them in the water, laughing and splashing at Tom, who kept himself close, touching her every so often in a loving, comforting manner. Yes, there was a little flirting here and there from the girls towards her husband, but Sybil saw it all as harmless now, and when she looked at Tom, she knew, without any doubt, that there was only one woman here he truly had eyes for. Which was later confirmed when the sun at set, and the girls invited Tom and Sybil to come over and join them for dinner.

"Thanks, but…we have plans," Tom explained, surprising Sybil. "Perhaps later this weekend? My sisters will be arriving tomorrow with their families—maybe we can have a big cookout or something then?"

There were a few disappointed moans, but the girls nodded their heads, bid the Bransons good night, before going their separate ways.

"We have plans?" Sybil asked, once back inside and after Tom had closed the door.

"MmmHmm," Tom answered, turning to face her and causing her to gasp as he pulled her close. "I meant what I said earlier, about wanting to take you back to bed," he growled, his hands running over the wet, skin-tight material of her swimsuit. "And we only have this place all to ourselves for one more night—I'm not going to waste a second of it!"

Sybil laughed and then sighed as she felt his fingers and lips at work. But before they could get too carried away, she cupped his face and looked up at him, her eyes shining with emotion. "I love you," she murmured.

Tom smiled down at her, and murmured the words back, before lowering his head at last and kissing her deeply.

She sighed as she wove her arms around his shoulders, melting against him as he lowered them to a nearby sofa. Despite how she had been feeling earlier that day, this truly _was_ a perfect holiday. And it was about to get even better…

 _ **THE END**_


End file.
